


A Change In Smarts

by Dragoniped



Category: Marvel, Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: I'm Sorry, It's late, M/M, SECRETLY, Sam was smart???, i'll probably delete these later, not worth tagging i don't think, the team makes a brief appearance, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoniped/pseuds/Dragoniped
Summary: Sam was, by no means, stupid. In fact, he was on the opposite end of the intelligence spectrum - far ahead of all his classmates in all subjects (despite all the time he spends off planet). So when SHIELD tells him about the move to New York to join a superhero team, what's to stop him pretending to be something he's not... for science?





	A Change In Smarts

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Rednbluemakegreen for Beta reading and coming up with a title (and my McDucking father for helping Beta).
> 
> If you see anything that needs tagging or any mistakes, I'll be happy to hear them.
> 
> Posted on Tumblr.

Okay, he could do this. I mean, this wasn't something he did everyday but how could it _really_ compare to saving the world? Scratch that, saving the _galaxy_ . So yeah, he could do this. This really wasn't the √−1, that is to say impossible, but then that wasn't true, it was imaginary not impossible and while those words could sometimes be used interchangeably (like when mentioning the chances of pigs flying - but then that too - _okay_. This really wasn't helping.

Sam needed to calm down and stop pacing - when did he start pacing? That doesn't matter. He picked up his backpack and moved to the door, taking another breath as he grabbed his helmet. His new life starts today, he should be way more excited. Pacing and procrastinating was _not_ how he planned to spend the morning. Still, he had a short flight to the SHIELD helicarrier to clear his head, well short for someone with his abilities anyway.  

* * *

 

He found himself hovering in front of a metal door not twenty minutes later. The door itself was obviously no issue  - he'd gotten the clearance earlier (even without it though he'd like to think he had a good chance against the thin metal). Instead, the problem was his racing mind as he prepared himself to meet his new team.

This was it, his big defining moment. There was only one chance to form a first impression, just a matter of seconds really - unless they got amnesia but it was extremely unlikely that the whole team would - stop Sam, _stop._ All he had to do was go in, introduce himself and keep up his new persona, how hard could that be?

_Apparently,_ it was considerably harder than he thought. When he entered the room, all eyes turned on him. The other 3 people in the room - the rest of his team, were in the middle of some conversation but it trailed off with little complaint. The one closest to him spoke first, the only girl in the room.

“You're Nova, aren't you?” She spoke as though it was a question but she hardly needed any confirmation, judging by what SHIELD had shown him of his soon-to-be teammates. He mentally listed what he knew about her: she was great at hand to hand combat; while in costume she had sharp claws and quick reflexes, making her a capable fighter; her intelligence was reasonably high both on and off the - _oh she was waiting for an answer… oops._

_“_ Yeah,” he inwardly cringed at how loud that came out - that was something to get used to (though judging by their faces, they were also surprised and displeased in varying amounts). White tiger looked the most annoyed (by a considerable margin),  but then she seemed like the serious type.

“I'm White Tiger, or Ava Ayala, this is Luke Cage” - she gestured to the boy to her right who gave a small nod and a smile. He was well built, especially for a teen, and (from what he'd seen on the SHIELD files and from a bit of research - it _was_ the smart thing to do) he had exceptional strength and impermeable skin. That in itself was rather interesting, those traits were clearly not just achieved through training so he had to have acquired them somehow, but there were so many possibilities. Did he get them from some sort of mutation? Or maybe it was passed on from a not-too-human parent or ancestor? Maybe this was the result of some interesting genetic engineering or -

“and this is Iron Fist or Danny Rand” - she gestured to the boy to her left, drawing Sam's attention back from where he was probably staring. The boy in question offered a small bow of his head - wasn't that awkward?, and a greeting Sam was not listening to (in favour of mentally listing the facts he knew). Danny had the power to concentrate immense amounts of energy on his fist(s? He'd have to look into that). He was also incredibly skilled at some form of martial arts - whose name Sam couldn't catch from the rooftop he was perched on, and (confusingly) a pacifist?

Sam's internal rambling was cut short this time by everyone's eyes on him, they'd probably asked a question? Naturally, he responded with the most _intellectual_ response he could manage: “Uhh?” It was monosyllabic, a filler word (if it could be called any) and drawled in such a way that said ‘I probably only have half a dozen brain cells - at most’. _Perfect._

“What's your name?” Luke was somewhat louder this time, louder at least than whoever had spoken before. (Probably Ava seeing as she had been doing most of the talking and looked the most annoyed by his slowness, then again she had been the most annoyed by everything so far so she could just be short tempered? Maybe that was just her normal face and default tone? What was it that kid back in Arizona called it.. A bitch resting face! - _Focus_ Sam.)

“Oh, Sam,“ he paused for a moment before adding “Alexander”, because he could at least return the gesture of a full formal introduction.

After the introductions were over, he learnt a few interesting titbits about the rest of his team and some intriguing rumors about SHIELD. Naturally, Sam continued to establish his new persona by being loud and slow - sometimes to the point that he would make the rest jump because of a sudden realisation.

Sam was absolutely _delighted_ to learn that they would be joined by another hero (and Spider-Man no less - not that he was a fan or anything). That feeling only grew when he found out they would be joining a school in the area. He had joked about making a new life for himself with this new persona, but this was something else. He'd be able to start school afresh as a complete idiot _and_ try all the stuff he couldn't because of his suffocating reputation as a ‘smart and reasonable’ person. He couldn't wait.

 

* * *

 

Okay, so Spidey wasn't as cool as Sam thought he would be; he was far, far better.

His real name was Peter Parker, he was 16 like the rest of them and he was a _total_ dork. He was smart and funny and, okay, maybe a little bit cute. More likely a lot. He was very cute. That had absolutely nothing to do with Spider-Man being one of his favourite Earth heroes - close even to Ms. Marvel on his (rather extensive) list, but the guy was just adorable.

Obviously, he wasn't the only one on the team he found cute. Danny was somewhat adorable in a unique and strange way, like those small puppies who had lost a leg - Nope. Sam had heard that said before, but even when he thought it it sounded like an insult, maybe a backhanded compliment at best. Maybe he should apologise when he sees Danny next? That will probably confuse him but it should be fine, random apologies were hardly the weirdest thing the team put up with - mainly thanks to a certain spider and the slew of villains they had to put up with on a regular basis.

Speaking of the spider, he does a lot of speaking, _to himself._ Obviously, Sam had no problem with it - he even found some of the spider’s more animated ‘ _conversations_ ’ to be amusing, possibly even endearing. At first he had assumed that this was just the product of an overactive mind - a lot of smart people did talk to themselves at some point (unless you were Tony, then you built something else that you could talk to instead). However, full blown arguments with yourself fell into a _slightly_ different category of overactivity that made him more than a little worried for Peter’s sanity. Thankfully, his ‘spidey sense’ as he liked to call it kept him out of any unforeseen danger (Sam was _very_ interested in learning more about that).

Sam had recently challenged himself to sneak up on Peter - it was proving to be far more of a challenge than he originally thought. Whenever he got close, Peter’s damned sixth sense would kick in and alert him of the incoming attack. Well humans had more than six senses anyway, but Peter seemed to have an extra or more refined sense that, didn't matter. The point still stood (not that it was the point anyway but still): it was so inconvenient. What made it worse was Sam had to very quickly start doing something ‘Sam-like’ to not blow his cover or just be caught being odd. Of course these were planned beforehand so he wasn't caught out but Peter may start wondering what's going on if this keeps up any longer.

The problem, because for people like Sam a problem to overcome was always the solution to what you couldn't do. If he had problems, he had goals and solutions he could work towards. Most people seemed to like _lists_ and _organisation_ but Sam was happy if he knew what all the problems were. Then he could logically come to conclusions and solutions and - he really needed to focus just once. Anyway, the main problem was just a lack of confidence on his part. He always assumed that he would fail, causing him to stop short 9 times out of 10, but today was different; today he was going to do it.

Sam took a slow breath when he saw the spider and began floating just a small distance above the floor - to mask his footsteps. Peter appeared to be fiddling with his web shooters. _Typical_ . He moved in slowly, keeping a consistent pace and trying not to grin. When he was close enough, Sam shot forward - his top speed was far too quick for any of Spider-Man’s legendary reflexes but that was hardly safe to attempt in doors and he didn't really have enough time _or_ distance to accelerate. Instead, he chose to accelerate at a much slower rate slightly above Peter's head until he was almost above him. _Now or never._

Nova swooped down suddenly, grabbing Peter under his arms to carry him into the air. The spider gave a startled squawk and almost dropped his phone but that didn't deter him from contorting his body in a frighteningly dangerous looking way to land a solid kick in Sam's stomach, _ouch._ He was really, _really_ glad he'd decided to sneak up in costume - if he hadn't, well he definitely would have broken a rib or two without the Nova force.

“Chill Webs, it's me.” Thank whatever force up there that his voice came out evenly. Peter visibly calmed down once he realised what was going on, but he clearly wasn't happy about it.

“Where are you taking me?” He sounded pissed, then again he seemed to hate the team by default - Sam put it down as an attempt to distance himself from the team and thus his secret identity from his crime fighting alter ego. Peter was easily one of the people who put the most effort into remaining unknown, most likely due to that overactive imagination and paranoia. _Wait he asked a question, didn't he?_

“Sommewhere,” Sam drawled, putting extra emphasis on the drawn out syllables. He hadn't actually decided where he would bring him, and he was still surprised this had worked. He was known for being a bit dumb and slow, and acting on impulse more times than not, but that wouldn't explain something like this. Everyone who passed was probably guessing his ‘ _ulterior motives_ ’. For someone so smart, he really was stupid.

As if reading his mind, the alarm sounded. Now Sam never really liked the phrase ‘saved by the bell’ - seeing as the bell signified the end of class, which meant corridors packed with students, or (far far worse) the end of the day. Granted he wasn't hated or even largely disliked, but he still had a number of people who would much rather see him moving at a more horizontal angle along the floor. _Fun._ Sadly, it appeared to just be one of the things that happened - you could only be so smart before the people you make feel stupid want to return the favour. Sam might have also had a few _unfavourable_ habits that ended rather badly him and whatever personal belongings he had to hand (do not, I repeat _do not_ correct an angry person. Period).

Oh yeah, the alarm. It wasn't really a bell, which should have Sam feeling a lot more _alarmed_ but instead he felt a bit relieved in his reminiscence, until he felt muscles tense beneath his hands ( _Wow.)._

It took little effort to reroute themselves, arriving at the control room just in time to hear Fury get _real_ pissed - some idiot thought it would be a good idea to try attack the helicarrier. Needless to say, the heroes quickly set to work in disposing of the (somewhat pitiful) invading force - with the help of a couple dozen equally pissed SHIELD agents who had been ambushed on their lunch break (all the other agents just continued working unless directly inconvenienced).

Peter seemed to have completely forgotten about the little act earlier, or assumed he'd known something that Peter hadn't. Sam definitely wasn't going to correct him or bring it up (he'd just file it away as a victory and leave it at that).

 

* * *

 

Despite the somewhat rocky start to their friendship, it was hard to stop the group becoming friends with the large amount of time they spent together. Obviously, like all friendships, theirs went through many trials and tribulations - such as a nice extended stay at Peter's while the helicarrier was repaired, or rebuilt, or whatever they were doing (Sam really didn't care).

While the flying fortress had been his home for quite an extended period of time, his own home - his _real homes_ , were both only a short flight away (relatively speaking - the universe was vast). Since he currently had no desire to return to Arizona for the duration of the fix - just because he _could_ make the flight didn't mean he'd _want_ to, and he didn't want to go off planet for some unpredictable amount of time (what was time to galaxy travelling guardians?), finding alternative arrangements had been a must - and caused Sam ridiculous amounts of anxiety.

But now? Now Sam was excited. He was going to be staying at his heroes house - even if he wasn't as cool as he originally thought and was, in fact, a massive dork. This meant he could observe him up close - for completely scientific, non-stalkery reasons that would benefit the team _obviously._

The excitement had been building from the second he learnt the plan, to the point that he couldn't hold back a grin and had to take a few laps of the town (to ‘patrol’) to help wear himself out. Would it be bad to wish the helicarrier was never fixed?

By the time he arrived at Peter's house, Sam was the picture of annoyed nonchalance. This was the product of a good half hour in front of the mirror (in some random mcdonalds a few towns over), and a quick read on the difficulties that honeybees were facing (he'll plant some lavender and tulips when he gets the chance).

Some of his still hidden excitement did die down when he realised just how cramped the house was going to be with the entire team there, but he'd be lying if he said that didn't interest him even slightly. Sam had been enjoying getting to know his team and all their little quirks and traits so being forced to spend even more time even closer to them wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Don't grin, _don't grin._

Peter had greeted the group at the door with an awkward smile and a few horrible jokes - it always amused Sam how he flitted between Peter Parker and Spider-Man whenever the team was involved. They were introduced briefly to his aunt before being given a tour of the house while Peter attempted to do his best at sounding authoritative - cute.

Knowing Peter, he was probably being ridiculously detailed for the benefit of the group. He had also probably thought ahead about what everyone would want or need to know, so that he wouldn't be bombarded with questions later and to avoid some unsatisfactory situations.

“And do not, I repeat _do not_ , go in my aunt's room,” Peter turned back to face the group, giving a smile the said the tour was concluded, “any questions?”

Now was probably not the time to admit that he hadn't been listening, like, _at all._ Then again he could get a one-on-one tour with Peter (and find some new things to appreciate). Anyway, it was a very Sam-like thing to have not been listening.

“Do you think you could repeat that end bit?” Sam saw Peter go to speak, probably about to ask for clarification on what Sam had not heard and/ or understood. “Oh and the first bit,” he gave a slight pause again as though inviting him to speak, “while you're at it, repeating everything that came between would be great.” Even he felt like slapping himself, so it was nice to see that the feeling was mutual for the majority of the team; Danny seemed to be the only one who didn't have a problem with this, but then again he seemed to be a Zen master (Sam made a note to try piss off Danny sometime, not that he didn't like the boy or anything, he just wanted to know if he could).

“Did you listen to _anything_ I said?”

 

* * *

 

Part of being “somewhat intellectually challenged” (as his science teacher had written on his recent report - _Rude_ ), was that he pretended not to understand a great deal of content. To his team, he was always using the excuse of being out in space so unable to attend school - which they _easily_ bought. The school seemed satisfied with hearing that his old school hadn't been so good.

This did mean he made a few enemies in the teachers who got tired of explaining each topic in explicit detail only to have him fall at the first hurdle. Repeatedly.

He honestly couldn't find himself minding when it meant he had significantly better relationships with the other students. Surprisingly, despite his constant low performance, he wasn't always the worst in the class - which was honestly slightly worrying, but those that were didn't hate him for doing better.

Consistently bad test results did cause issues when it came to the nicer teachers, those who wanted to _help_ him and were offering him all sorts of extra support. _Fun._ He did his best at playing the part of an annoyed teen, but they just kept thinking up new ways to help. Sam honestly hadn't counted on them trying to involve his friends.

Peter, being the nerd he is, often happily went to extra sessions after school to help ‘further his knowledge’ - yeah right, he was already ahead in some subjects but he only ever revised those same few. Their physics teacher, being the butt he is, tried to use this to his advantage by trying to convince Sam to come along on the basis that his ‘best friend Peter’ is going to be there. It wasn't until Peter asked himself (and Sam managed to get him to agree to a game night afterwards) that he changed his mind on the matter. Physics always had been one of his strongest subjects.

When they arrived, 10 minutes late - because their English teacher _really_ didn't like Sam (one might even say they hate him, not Sam though, Sam preferred the word despised), they were met by a group of miserable faces and one strained smile.

“Hello boys, glad you could make it,” the physics teacher (and the only one smiling) greeted, turning away from the students he'd been tutoring (read: bothering). “Do you have anything specific you wanted to work on?” Unsurprisingly, his smile seemed less strained at the prospect of abandoning these students (obviously, he would be reluctant to leave the students but he _did_ have to help others as well).

“Me and Peter are gonna work on-” Sam, seemingly randomly, grabbed one of the sheets that had been set out for the study session “-this.” As an afterthought, he grabbed one for Peter.

Before Peter could interject, he had been dragged to a table near the back of the room. Sam did not want to spend the next hour listening to the teacher drone on about some of the most _basic_ information, especially not if doing so meant suffering through his oversimplifications and models (just because it’s _slightly_ similar does _not_ mean a student should base their understanding off it). Instead, he was going to spend his hour daydreaming and staring at Peter (definitely not daydreaming _about_ Peter though), while pretending to not know what he's doing and making spectacular mistakes. _What do you mean gravity isn't 23m/s^3?_ It is on that one planet.

Peter was playing the part of the adorable nerd perfectly. Whenever he got stuck on a question or confused he would furrow his brow and sometimes seemingly squint at the words (Probably a habit from back when he needed glasses) but the smile that would take over when he worked it out was unmistakable. The little repeated pattern didn't help too much at working out what question he was on with all the indentations  (Looking at you 4biii) and with the ridiculously simple ones that weren't worth his time (I wonder what gravity could possible be).

Sam could almost see Peter roll his eyes as he moved through some of the simpler questions. He had really nice eyes as well and, thanks to the bite, very keen eyesight. With eyesight _that_ keen, it was honestly a surprise his staring hadn't been noticed earlier - Spidey's peripheral vision was nothing to laugh at. He was probably too engrossed in his science.

Obviously, Peter picked that moment to glance over at Sam. _Great._ Sam could feel his ears begin to burn and his mouth go dry (not that he wanted to speak anyway, he was far more likely to convince Peter he was part bird). Sam _would_ swear he felt his heart skip a beat - he knew it was far more likely for your heart to give an extra beat than it was to miss one, but the frighteningly consistent rushing beats were thundering in his ears. Calm down, calm down, _calm down!_

What was it Starlord had taught him? Reciting things from memory? (That obviously wasn't his first suggestion but it had been the only one Sam had deemed acceptable). That's simple enough, just pick a number. Sam took a deep breath. _1 . 7 7_ Peter was still looking at him. _2 4 5_ Thankfully, he only looked slightly confused. _3 8 5 0_ His heartbeat was no longer in his ears; small victory but one nonetheless. _9 0 5 5_ …

“Um,” he attempted after what felt like forever (Probably only a couple of minutes since Peter was still looking at him). Sam cringed when he heard his voice crack on the single syllable; Peter raised an eyebrow. “I was just daydreaming.” _Please buy it, please buy it-_

“You're supposed to be stopping yourself falling further behind,” Peter rolled his eyes and held out his hand, “Did you even try any of the questions?”

“I'm ahead of Flash!” he countered as he handed over the sheet, inwardly smirking at the pigeon scrawl he had chosen to use.

“Flash doesn't count,” Peter responded just as quickly, smiling slightly as he did. The smile didn't last long though, dropping off his face effortlessly as he looked at Sam's sheet, brow furrowed. _Not good._

After a few seconds of silence, Sam sighed dramatically. “C’mon Peter, it can't be _that_ bad.” He was sure he only used the wrong constant, and the wrong formulas, and the wrong symbols, and the wrong numbers altogether… _oh yeah_ \- that might have been overkill. No wonder Peter looked so confused.

“This is Spanish.” Though a statement, there was an unmistakable upward infection, showing Peter's uncertainty. _Oops_ . “You're failing spanish.” _Double oops._

Sam shrugged. “I was cramming for the Spanish test next week.” That was clearly a totally acceptable answer as to why someone who struggled to say their own name in Spanish would manage a whole page, _right?_ Peter did not look impressed.

“I can't even tell if this is right or not Sam, I can't even understand half of it.” Peter squinted back at the homework sheet, as though expecting his now narrowed field of vision to somehow aid his Spanish translating (you really never know, he is Spider-Man so it wouldn't be odd if he had some weird, near-sighted translating powers there was, after all, no proof that spider's didn't have that ability) - it did not.

Even if his focused squint was beginning to decode the horrid pigeon-scrawl, Sam didn't wait to find out. He effortlessly snatched the paper from a Peter (with his stickiness it was sheer luck that it was being held so gently), before ripping it into a hard to assemble mess - not impossible but, in the circumstances, good enough. When he was satisfied with the physics confetti (which both had physics on them _and_ obeyed the laws of physics - double physics!), he unceremoniously dumped the mess into the bin and grabbed another sheet.

The look Peter gave him was (absolutely adorable) met with a small grin. “I was listening to those, uh, weekly language ones on YouTube while I went to sleep, so it is either not Spanish or my half asleep brain's poor excuse of it.” Sam laughed, and _wow_ it sounded forced. Judging by Peter's skeptical look he hadn't really bought it either. What was he thinking? No reasonable human being would accept that excuse, Sam would have better chances saying he was trying to do his Spanish homework at the same time. He _did_ have the Spanish sheet in his bag, but getting it out without Peter noticing would be somewhat difficult - maybe he can say that he kept sneaking glances at it? With his previous story, he was a lot less likely to believe this new one but-

“Earth to Sam? Are you going to actually attempt the work or are you just going to daydream?” Peter's brow was furrowed yet again, and Sam swears he felt his heart rate increase this time (which is, in fact, entirely plausible).

“I just can't focus here, it's too long and hot and boring and..” Sam paused his rambling, thinking up more lame excuses (no brain, saying you were experiencing vertigo was not a valid excuse but it might put a positive spin on things) “And I'm hungry, really hungry. You can't focus on an empty stomach!” Sam did his best attempt at whining - he was now a self-certified expert if he did say so himself (and he did, all the time, in his head _and_ to mirrors), to help convey his point. Peter gave him an unimpressed look - so much for him buying it.

“Why don't you tutor me?” He attempted, trying to stop the stare down. “You can make sure I pay attention _and_ review the topics you've covered, it's win win!” Sam felt genuinely excited at his own proposal, he'd get to spend more time with Peter and if he does _finally_ manage to bring his grades up the teachers will see they work well together. Win, win, win! (Not that higher grades counted as a win all things considered, but still).

Peter, thankfully, also seemed to approve of the suggestion. “Okay, but I'm going to make sure you actually pay attention.” Sam nodded dutifully, knowing that he was hardly going to attempt to stay engaged - he knew all the stuff anyway so as long as he checked what Peter was teaching he could pretend to be struggling or have learnt something. “And you're going to do your homework!” He added as an afterthought, making Sam groan dramatically (another one of his specialities).

Peter seemed satisfied with his responses, allowing Sam to leave the study session early as long as he agreed to study with Peter tomorrow. After a lot of, extremely weak, protests (he didn't want Peter to _actually_ change the date), he agreed and made a show of running from the room. He was looking forward to the next few weeks.

 

* * *

 

In maths, as they always did, they had a test, which, as it always was, was annoying. Sam, as he always didn't, tried a little bit harder than usual, which he expected to be met with praise for his improvements. Sam was wrong - as he always is when it comes to school (for very different reasons).

When the teacher had handed out the results, Sam's had been kept on her desk with a ‘come see me after class’ - _odd._ When he did as instructed, he was asked why he cheated - _Rude._ Apparently, having done only slightly better than usual (he checked and it wasn't a drastic improvement), the teacher thought he had copied off someone else because, as she said ‘he was incapable of something of this ability’ - again _rude._ After a long discussion, because adults have discussions not arguments and Sam _definitely_ didn't raise his voice or call her names (he did both simultaneously), he found himself with an hour long detention and having to redo the exam.

Some small, petty part of him wanted to answer every question correctly just to see her come up with excuse after excuse on how he cheated _this_ time. _Maybe he used a pulley system of strings and mirrors to read the answers from the uncollected sheets of absent students?_ (That would be kind of cool) Instead, he sat grumbling at his desk writing dumb answers to dumb questions (most of which were incorrect, of course) and waiting until his detention was over. _Fun._

Upon leaving the room, he was surprised to find Peter waiting for him, until he remembered they had study - thank you universe. Sam greeted him with a grin before beginning his usual annoying and loud post-test complaints. Peter, ever the polite soul (or at least usually - his temper was impressive), let him ramble on, adding small responses and nods wherever possible or necessary.

“Clearly she just hates me, I mean it's easily possible to improve that much between tests.” Sam, noticing immediately how not-extremely-retarded that sounded added on a “I mean C’mon, it's not rocket science”, perfect. Peter just shook his head, laughing slightly as he did so. He would have complained but damn if that laugh wasn't cute.

It wasn't until they arrived at Peter's that he realised where they were going. After the complaints, they had moved on to talk about the recent episodes of The Flash and The Walking Dead - easily among some of the Earth's best attractions (at least half the things Sam found on this list were TV shows), so he was happily disoriented as he focused on the task at hand (babbling about cool things is a very important task, thank you very much). He almost didn't groan when Peter said it was time to study, almost.

The study was tolerable enough anyway, when it dissolved into unabashed staring and blatant daydreaming while Peter excitably went off on tangents (because he just really, _really_ loved chemistry - or so he said, about 8 times). That just gave Sam the time to appreciate what was in front of him.

Peter was a really expressive person, this was even clear when he was thinking or talking to himself, and Sam loved it. He would bite his lip in thought or raise his eyebrows in surprise while working through problems on his own, each time having his mini revelations. The way his eyes would glance up in thought or he would mouth words when not speaking was (downright adorable) making Sam wonder how much he missed when his expressions were covered in red spandex.

Obviously, the teen was just as expressive with his hands. Using them to count or mess with his hair as he worked things out. Just looking, it was clear that Peter was a tactile person - not that Sam was complaining (instead he was curious as to whether this was a changed caused by the spider's venom). It would make sense if this was a newfound change, as a spider's sense of touch is it's most valuable - judging by the amount the sense is used. Was Peter able to sense vibrations at all? He did have similar hairs along his skin, so it would definitely make sense for them to have the same functionality. Maybe?

Peter and Sam both jumped. Granted Peter jumped first and Sam's own reaction was a result; they still both jumped. The cause of the sudden, spasm-like movement was caused by Sam touching Peter and shocking him out of his science-fueled trance, fuck. Sam's own reaction was slightly worse, the jump causing his heart rate to spike as he began to panic.

_1 . 7 7 2 4 5 3 8 5 0.._ Peter was calling his name, and possibly had been for a while. He'd been talking out loud, shit. “Yes?” He asked, grimacing as he heard his voice come out so weak and un- _Sam_ like. Peter's brow furrowed in genuine concern.

“Are you okay? You kinda scared me there, then you started saying random numbers, what was that?” Peter seemed to have completely forgotten about the science, or else elected to ignore it. This was two of his most endearing trait of his: putting friends first and worrying about others. He was too soft, Sam could only hope he never changed - or at least he would when he wasn't trying to talk his way out of this.

“Um, er, root pi? Wait! Um, it's nothing, you just, you, you scared me and, and I, I was daydreaming and… and.. Just don't worry about it!” Sam slapped his hands over his mouth as he shouted the last few words, he never was particularly confident and he could almost feel his façade slipping. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled, once he deemed it safe to speak.

Believe it or not - and it's hard not to, Peter still looked worried, though now there was a bit more confusion evident on his face. “Sam,” he began slowly, almost as though anything quicker would startle him (it wouldn't, probably), “What's root pi?”

An intellectual, in the position Sam was in (how one would find themselves in that position is clearly an incredible combination of bad decisions, which seems far too shortsighted for one of that logical calibre), would not answer that question - or at least not correctly. Sam most clearly was not. “1.7724538-” he caught himself too late.

“How?” Peter asked shaking his head, “Just how?” Peter showed his calculator, the number in question showing proudly on the black and white display.

What followed could only be called the most one-sided game of cat and mouse. Every excuse Sam gave (from hearing Ava saying it to needing to learn it for a game - naturally all excuses were highly probable) was immediately shot down by Peter. To make matters worse, even the more likely reasons were simply disregarded because of the babbling that lead up to them from Sam's slight panic. He needed to calm down, take a breath and form a coherent lie.

Sam did one better: he lay down. To perfect the action, it was completed with a brief thrust of his hands in a general upward direction and an ‘I give up’ - perfect. Now if only Peter will leave him alone so he can think of some sort of reasonable answer. Logically speaking, he should have defended one of the more plausible lies instead of backing down at the slightest resistance - not that it helped now. Of course this argument had to be against somebody as stubborn as Peter ‘I-Will-Do-Whatever-I-Want-Especially-If-You-Tell-Me-Not-To’ Parker. Even now, Sam was sure he was getting sent evil looks for not letting him get to his desired victory.

Staring at the back of somebody's head seemed to eventually lose appeal, as Peter returned to his science - albeit with less vigor as Sam was reluctant to notice. The small gestures and mannerisms were unavoidable as he became more engrossed, allowing Sam to go back to watching him work through a small gap between his arms.

It wasn't until Peter made a simple, yet easily noticeable (for someone of Sam's intellect anyway - which as noted earlier may be significantly lower than he originally believed) mistake that Sam spoke again. “Wrong!” He sing-songed, talking a bit more like his normal, softer tone than the one he had not so recently adopted. The look Peter gave him alone was enough to set of a round of giggles as he tried to work out the error. Obviously, Sam found out seconds after Peter spotted it - the widening of his eyes gave it away.

“How did you know that, we haven't even been taught this in class yet and you're behind everyone else.” The statement was matter-o-fact, leaving no room for dumb lies or silly games. Peter's eyes were narrowed as he said this, and his tone even. All signs saying that he was done messing around and if he didn't start getting answers things were about to get stuck to walls - preferably (for Peter) Sam being stuck to a wall either until he gives the desired and/or accepted answer or until SHIELD arrive to find out what's really going on, not a very good outcome.

Sam had a lot of explaining to do.

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY NOW???


End file.
